Senses
by silentskulls
Summary: Little drabbles of DG/Glitch, set to the five senses.
1. Touch

Every time her hand would brush against him or her leg would unintentionally bump against his, he instantly felt an involuntary push to return the contact in any way. Recently, while standing up from the dinner table, her thigh was, in one instant, against his shoulder. Not only did it make him scrape his knife against his plate, but it also made him want to grab her waist and pull her back down. Or when he was hanging the laundry last week to dry and she was helping him and her fingers swept against his, he wanted to fully grab her hand and see what she would do.

He had been feeling this more and more often. Currently, the two of them were cleaning the bathroom together, for the chores were put onto him and he dutifully agreed to them, but she still insisted on helping him. A few times thus far, she had touched him in some way without knowing and had sent a thrill through him that made him twitch to grab her. She had the towel in her hand and began wiping the mirror as he continued scrubbing a particularly stubborn mess in the shower. Looking down at her cloth, she noticed its dirtiness and walked joyfully over, leaning right over and on top of him to turn the faucet on and clean it.

At this very moment, he realized that everything she had done was intentional.

In one, quick movement, he ignored every urge he had, every undying thrill that went shooting through his veins, and scrambled away from underneath her, hearing her body tumble onto the floor. He sped out of the bathroom at full speed and never washed with her again.


	2. Sound

The leaves on the trees rustled. The grass crunched quietly underneath them. Clothing rubbed against itself and let out indistinct noises of fabric against fabric. They were close for being so far apart, the crisp autumn air refreshing to their warm bodies. She was running and giggling as he followed behind in a playful chase across the park. Without warning (Or permission), she had taken the hat he was wearing, claiming it as 'one of the coolest hats she's ever seen' and then placing it on her head before she went running. And now he was chasing after her at full speed, laughing as he did so. It was all so exhausting. She had been running for probably several minutes, and both were surprised at their stamina. He was tempted to slow down or forfeit, but decided against it, not matter how horribly the stitch in his side was throbbing.

Finally, she grabbed the trunk of a tree, swung herself around it as he came close to her, and laughed as she fell to the ground in a tired heap. He sighed audibly, letting out an exaggerated grunt as he fell down next to her. She giggled, pat his chest, and pulled herself closer, nuzzling herself against him.

Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in deep, ragged breaths. She still giggled every now and then, but was mainly quiet as she rested against him. It was all calming—not to mention incredibly sweet—in his mind. He smiled and kissed the top of her head. He loved her soft laughter and her deep breathing, while the leaves crackled above them.


	3. Taste

Absolute darkness.

He saw absolutely nothing, save for a very faint light and a bit of a blue color. Of course, that wasn't enough to allow him to move around without bumping into something, but at least it was a little bit of sight. His hands were open and his fingers were spread apart, waiting patiently. Finally, something warm came in contact with his hands. A porcelain mug, no doubt; but what was inside?

Blindly gripping the handle, he lifted it to his lips and took a quiet sip. The warm liquid burned against his tongue, and throat, leaving an almost filmy feeling against both. It was, at least, satisfying, but something he wasn't familiar with. It tasted frothy and sweet with a hint of sugar, and there was an exotic something in its contents. He licked his lips and raised a brow behind the blindfold.

"Is this some sort of new soup?" he asked quietly, unsure of what she had just given him. She laughed and took the mug from his hands, taking a sip herself before speaking.

"Nope. It's called _coffee_." She leaned forward and kissed him before untying the blindfold. He only smiled at her, confirming that coffee was now one of the best drinks to ever grace his lips.


	4. Sight

He was used to her tomboyish outfits. He liked her leather jackets, normal shirts, and edgy pants. In fact, that was what he remembered her wearing the first time he'd met her (Actually, it was the second, but he couldn't remember the first and considered it silly to think of that as the first as such). She only had one of such an outfit, which was the one he, Cain, and Raw were all familiar with. They'd come to recognize her easily because she was the only girl they knew in the O.Z. who walked around in such clothes.

There was a party coming soon to celebrate the O.Z. coming back to it's proper state. Of course, the queen requested that she wear a dress. She tried to decline, but was not willing to put up a fight, and quickly went to her room. With a detour to Glitch's, of course.

At once, she had grabbed his wrist and whisked him into her bedroom with him, briefly explaining the situation before sitting him down on her bed and opening her closet which was already jammed full of fancy dresses. The queen had obviously stocked it for her. He was told to cover his eyes as she changed into a dress (He argued at once, saying that he liked her clothes. He didn't want to spoil the image he had of her. Of course, she persuaded him and he did as he was told).

The first was a bright, flowing yellow with a few rose appliqués placed here and there.

He rejected it.

The second was a red dress that had skinny straps and high, silk gloves.

He considered and then, again, rejected it.

The third was a pale blue with silver garnishing and even a hair piece.

It was denied at once.

The fourth dress took a while. She stayed in the other room for a few moments, making noises as she apparently squeezed into the dress. When she walked out in the short, black and red dress, he immediately recognized it. He wanted—_so badly_—to accept it, but figured that the queen would probably very well faint at the sight of her little princess in such an 'immodest' dress. He fell silent and blushed as she chuckled.

She wore it anyway and, surprisingly, didn't get in trouble.


	5. Scent

Cooking wasn't exactly something he remembered very well (Then again, what was?). He _wanted _to cook, but couldn't always remember everything, whether it was the steps to take or the ingredients themselves. Thankfully, when he had a very sudden urge to go and make something, she was willing to come along and help. They got out everything they needed and began.

It turned into a scenario of her doing the _cooking_ and him doing the _helping_. He didn't mind; at least he was having fun.

Their creation was in the oven now. They sat at the table, talking and laughing. It took a good amount of time before, finally, the smell of cookies baking wafted into the air. Both of them quieted and began sniffing the air.

He smiled. Although he couldn't quite put his finger on it, the scent was incredibly nostalgic. He loved how warm they smelled.

She smiled back at him, her shoulders rising as she giggled. He scooted himself closer and sniffed her now. At first she looked a little unsure, but returned to a normal expression when he smiled contentedly.

Surely he must've baked cookies with her when she was younger. Or, at least, something _like _that. This was all just too familiar.

If he had, though, he assumed that the cookies back then were better then the burnt ones they had now.


End file.
